


already gone

by gozenichiji



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Grief/Mourning, ghost!alec, loss of a parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gozenichiji/pseuds/gozenichiji
Summary: "Oh, how warm is your skin; how light seeps through each strand of hair. While I'm holding you tight, I pray softly that you don't fade against the wind. Could you stay with me forever? I don't know what to do, now that you're gone."- "Bawat Piyesa", Munimuni
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Daisy Hardy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. i.

Gravel crunches under her shoes, as Ellie Miller walks around the area; her phone has yet to ring, meaning that she hasn't returned. A long way back, Alec had told her she was old enough, she could manage on her own, though the idea of how overwhelmed she must be, adds to the rising paranoia in her chest. In the distance, she sees a young girl sitting by the cliffs. 

Her silhouette against faint moonlight looked forlorn, abandoned. She seemed as if she was a mirage; unmoving save for her hair gently blown against the breeze. Just as it would next to the wide expanse of ocean, the wind grows faster, harsher. 

"It's freezing out here, you've got to go back–" The detective softly comments, quietly approaching her. The night sky illuminates her auburn hair, her distant look resembles someone she knew–

"You're Daisy, aren't you? I'm Ellie." She stretches out a hand, to see her face stare back. Her eyes were red-rimmed, hollow. In resignation, she sits beside her, the breeze blowing past her parka.

"You know my dad?" Her voice was rough, raw as sobs threatened to escape her throat. She could tell that she was trying to compose herself, the look in her eyes betraying her—telling her of someone who had been left behind as life continued without her. As if he had—

"I worked with him a while back, did anything happen–" 

"He's dying, isn't he?” A pause. “Why didn’t Mum tell me, then?!" The breeze blows past as they’re met with silence, both speechless. Blood roars in Ellie’s ears when it occurs to her that she’s hardly processed it at all.

"Oh no, sweetheart, I..." She wished she knew what to say.

"Since when?" Her voice was cold, cracking as if she was forcing it not to tremble. Ellie bites her lip and sighs, cornered to having to tell her the truth. 

"The doctors told you, didn’t he? It was two months ago." Daisy curses under her breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. She’d tried to deny what he’d told her, yet that too hadn’t worked out. In resignation, she looks towards the horizon.

"Dad...used to take me to the beach a lot, we'd sit by the cliffs. He never really liked the water, I think. Didn’t like the sand. We spent a lot of time together, then he got promoted. Not much after that. It was a short while before this when I found out there was something wrong with his heart--” She sniffs, dabbing at her eyes. 

“They wouldn’t stop bickering, kept at it until he’d left. It still followed me at school, that scandal. They’d never shut up about it—” She laughs, collapsing into the detective’s arms, burying her face into her parka, bawling into the loudly-colored fabric.

“If I didn’t come here, he could’ve passed away. I'd be thinking I didn’t want anything to do with him again, and I’d never have known.” Ellie holds her tighter, eyes welling up. She hardly knew her personally, but could only imagine how hard it must be for her, suddenly carrying the responsibility and emotional toll of losing a parent at such a young age. “All this time, I thought Sandbrook was his fault…” Bloody sixteen years old—too young to be falling apart. She was at a loss—understanding why Alec had never told her; failing to recognize the hefty price when one’s blissful ignorance is disturbed. 

“How did I not know?” She exhales with bared teeth, barely a whisper in the air.

The initial discovery: it gnaws at someone, more agonizing each day the person they love buries a secret. To make them happy; to make it as if nothing was wrong, when it was a lie—

She’d know.

Time seemed to slow down to a stop, as Ellie brushed her hair, rubbing her shoulder; she could feel her trying to stifle whimpers and screams; threatening her heart to break. She didn’t know why it had to be this way; people yearning for an answer, only to wish they had been wrong.

But you truly would never know what was in someone’s heart.

“When I saw him, I...” She’s barely at the end of her sentence when she throws her head back, letting out a scream out in the sky, pleading to anyone who’d listen. Her fists bash the ground, dirt clinging to her palms; her face fell against Ellie’s warm shoulder, gnashing her teeth.

“I almost didn’t recognize at first, really…”

“It was so hard...” She takes in a shuddering gasp, choking on tears. “To see him so...” Coughs cut her off, long and hard. Ellie hears deep and ragged breaths, screaming of pent-up guilt, anger, sadness, betrayal–

“—in so much pain... This isn’t how it should be, right?! To realize that your dad could be dead in a month, and there’s nothing you could do but watch!” Head raised in disbelief, she yells agonizingly, joining as waves crash against Dorset cliffs. She takes in another shuddering gasp, furiously pressing her sleeves to her puffed-up eyes; as if everything would disappear, as if time would leave them alone.

The detective, too, wished it would, even for a moment. “I can’t do this on my own, Ellie, I thought I could…” Daisy leans at her side, arms wrapped tightly.

The detective’s eyes only open to the never-ending sky her friend hated, stars twinkling: a reminder of the world she had used to know. “When someone you love, let’s say, leaves, Daisy…” Grief rushes back as her voice falters;

“You feel as if everything’s abandoned you, but ultimately, we aren’t all alone.” She whispers, blinking tears against her lashes. It was no longer—she truly wishes—a lie she tried to tell herself each day.


	2. i.

Sand sticks to the soles of her worn sneakers—she never liked them, if Daisy Hardy was to be honest with herself, the way they seemed to occupy every crevice, the way it made her skin itch. She was honest, too, unknowing why she had even ended up here; though it was better than the sterile white of waiting rooms and wards, walls that closed in on her suspended disbelief. Walls where she'd sit beside a sight of her dad that she'd barely recognized, barely clinging on to life. There was hardly a point in hoping, in remaining by his side days on end. Her legs sink into the sand when she acknowledges that—

He was gone; the second his chest fell for the last time had grief, anguish began to flow, more overwhelming than she could think of, even in her moments of paranoia.

_She—couldn't even stay—ran._

Farther from the whirring sounds of equipment, farther from a shared stiff silence, somber as it was; running aimlessly as sand crunches under her soles, the cool sea breeze a temporary, flitting relief to the burning in her eyes. 

Sitting in resignation, she looks up, the blurred sun setting as it illuminated orange cliffs. A somewhat familiar orange to a coat she'd woken up to on her lap. It had been from a coworker of his—she'd asked her to call her Ellie—a close friend, too. She wonders how she felt; she was there when it happened, wasn't she?

She thinks as a warmth overcomes her: through tear-filled eyes, she wonders if he was now looking down on her, seeing her, not knowing that she was sorry; sorry that she'd never been honest, had never told him that all she wanted was time, and they couldn't even have that.

She looks to her side, Ellie sitting beside her, familiar brown curls and neon parka. The words had disappeared since that moment, unable to escape her mouth—grief's cold fingers strangling her throat. Her eyes meeting her gaze were red-rimmed, though warm; the only comfort these agonizing weeks as hope continued to diminish. 

She didn't need to say more, wordlessly embracing the detective; hot tears streaming down, the sound still unable to escape as she gasps and gnashes her teeth.


	3. Chapter 3

He hated the sand, the sea, the way waves crashed, the salty breeze, the cliffs that overlooked it—but now, he would do nothing but to feel it again. Same could be said for the unruly pulse beneath his fingertips, stalled to a halt. More for the longing to be with Daisy again; it feels a cruel trick of fate as it's reduced to her watching vigil over his motionless form weeks on end, him only able to watch from the other side of his own bedside, next to the countless machines and lines hooked up to him. He grits his teeth, wishing they'd never come to this point: he knew he didn't have much time left—for her to watch him slowly succumb to death would break his flayed heart more.

He felt it has, a growing pain in his heart; he stumbles on the shore, gripping the sand as his knuckles whiten from the tension when he can't breathe. He feels the faint roughness of sand on his palm, fading away to a numbness. Fear occupies him, wondering if this was the end, as a sudden peace overflows him. 

Yet;

Daisy—

He couldn't allow it; he wasn't done here. Night falls, as he feels himself fading; his skin growing paler, transparent, nearly shadow-like. 

_Oh God, don't do this to me._

Across from him, he sees her curled up on the sand, unmoving as waves crash; a familiar image, he finds. As if driven by instinct, he quietly approaches her, sits down: she doesn't notice.

Similarly, he finds himself gazing at the horizon: wondering why the joining of an endless sky and sea had brought calm, security; not like that he'd been able to provide the same for her. He holds her tight, pressing a kiss on her hair, as hot tears scorch his cold skin.

"Dad, are you watching over me?" He hears her mutter, voice feeble, and cracked. His hand goes close to wipe her tears, futile as they continued to run across her cheeks. 

"I'm sorry... that I never told you anything. That I never answered your voicemails, that all I wanted was time!"

_I'm sorry too, darlin'._

"And they told me if you never got better in a month, then—" She grits her teeth tightly, her palms pressed tightly on her eyes. Another whimper makes it through her throat, he holds her tighter, her heart racing in place of his. 

"I hope you're okay up there, and... I miss you being soppy. It's like—" She quickly dismisses, more tears falling on her sleeve. She lists more confessions into the wind, agonizingly screaming when it gets too much.

 _It's okay._ He says, when she tells him that she cut class.  
 _It's okay._ He says, when she tells him that she was mad about him leaving them.  
 _It's okay._ He says, when she tells that she couldn't even stay by his side when he died.

It pains him to see her like this, to be unable to reassure him, that he'd be looking after her.

"Ellie came over too. Did you know her well?" _You better look after her, Miller._ He wordlessly nods, his chin resting on her shoulder. 

"I... yeah. I might stay here after the funeral. Help sort out your home, where you work. I promise I'll be at the cliffs." She gets up, looking up once more at a clear sky. 

His eyes meeting its expanse, he knew he hated how it stretched to eternities. But for once, he wished he could see the stars with her again.


	4. ii

The wind is cool, her numb footsteps making the short route from his formerly occupied home. She recalls a framed photo that she'd found by his desk, one from her childhood. Both eyes shining with joy, representing all that she had yearned for. One where they could tell each other that they'd see each other the next day, and it wouldn't be a lie.

She absentmindedly trudges up tall grass to the cliffs, a bench placed near the pathway. Carefully walking along its steep edge, she takes a seat, bouquet of bluebells dangling from her hand. 

It's been a month, as far as she'd known—yet the pain burns fresh just as then as she bolted to the cliffs, alone. Furiously wiping a stray tear, she places the flowers to the vacant space next to her; pressing her eyes shut before anything could happen.

A familiar rough palm cups her cheek; she blearily opens her eyes to see him kneeling in front of her. He looked as if nothing had happened; wearing a rumpled worksuit, his unruly, auburn hair seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. She'd known for him to be distant, awkward, yet his eyes were warm: it was as if he was there.

"Hello, love. It's me." His voice overflows her with longing, she puts up a smile as she reaches for him; though she recoils: scared that he'd be a mirage all along. That all she'd kept up would be for nothing. 

_I missed you._ She wishes to say, but cannot let out.

Yet her arms wrap around him anyway, burying her face in his chest in relief, soon despair as she presses her ear to his heart.

She hears nothing.

The paper wrapping the bluebells crinkles as her shaking fists bunch up. Taking another shuddering breath, she looks up at his concerned expression.

"So you're really gone, are you..." His gaze is somber as his arms tighten around her. She feels his lips brush against her forehead, shocked by how cold they were. 

"Are you okay up there?" She feels him nod, as an air of relief washes down her. His hazel eyes shine, in contrast to the cold gaze she was accustomed to. "Darlin'... I'm sorry for not telling you anything sooner. But for now, no more broken heart. I promise."

"Really?"

"I knew how hard it would be on you, but it got to that point, didn't it." He says, an undertone of bitterness, of regret. 

"But when I felt it, it didn't hurt." He says, holding her as she wracks with muffled sobs, desperately clinging to his coat. "I remembered you, and I was happy. None of this.." He trails off, cupping her face in his hands. 

"None of this was your fault, darling."

She can hear the breath being knocked out of him as his arms loosen around her, the stark reminder that they couldn't stay like this forever. She opens her eyes to see him fading against the sunlight, his gaze fully on her. 

One of someone who knew it was the last time; she knew that if it was so, they would focus on every detail, every feature. Just so they would never forget them. 

"Wait, don't go, please! Dad, please, I can't do this..." She pleads as he strokes his hand across her hair. "You can't be gone, please.." She cries out, her arms tighter around him, scared to let go. 

"I love you, Daisy." He whispers against her ear; tears burn her eyes, clenched tightly. 

"You can't go! Please!" She cries out, opening her eyes to the calm sea, its waters contrasting against the blinding orange of dusk. Her palms on damp grass, she realizes that it had been goodbye.


	5. v.

The auditorium is bustling, filled with different families: The obvious void makes it bittersweet that for this celebration among many past, and much more to come: he'd never be there. As it would seem, but the locket he'd given her a long time ago tells her otherwise, that he was looking down over her. For her, that was enough.

"Mum?" She turns to Tess, phone poised to take photos, "Could we visit Dad?"

The ride is drizzling, silent as they'd make it through the motorway. Daisy's stomach momentarily clenches as they pass through a hospital; nearly making her recall the dread and the only increasing despair each day, as—

"You alright there, Dais?" Tess asks, as Daisy looks ahead. Slowly buildings had begun to dissipate, as groves of trees had begun to pass through more frequently. "We're almost there." 

The rest is spent in attempts at conversation as they'd approach iron-wrought gates, a chapel in the distance. The sound of the brake being pulled snaps her back as she nervously grasps at her graduation toga. 

Diploma in tow, she disembarks the car, her mom's arm wrapped around her shoulder.

The route to his gravestone is nearly ingrained in her memory; she feels that even her footsteps could wear marks on the ground. Almost an absentminded habit, developed from countless trips at his side. Flowers bloom beside the plot; it tears at her knowing that he would never make it to this day. Beside his name is a candle; she lights it as she places the diploma next to his name, engraved, worn by wind. 

1969-2015. There could've been more time, she laments.

"Hey, Dad, uh-" she looks at Tess, somberly smiling as she rubs her hand across her back. "I made it, I made it through!" Excitedly pointing to the certificate, she laughs, tears mixed with joy, relief, despair, longing falling onto the damp grass.

"I'm so sad that you aren't here, but.." She momentarily stops to gather herself. "—I know you're watching over me. Those flowers there? Did you do that?" She stares at his name, as if it would will him back. Once more, desperately grasping for the right words, she pauses.

"I still miss you, everyday. I know I didn't want us to be soppy, but-" She smiles. "At least you're alright now. And that keeps me going."

"By the way, I'm going to university soon! Ellie planned to take me there. Too bad it couldn't be you, but I hope you're proud of me." _Even though it wouldn't be obvious_ , she thinks. 

The familiar warmth overtakes her again, reassuring her that he'd heard it all, that he was still there. 

_God will put you in the right place, even if you don't know it at the time._

She knew she would never be certain, but she knew they were both there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This oneshot is dedicated to the Former Detectives Club, who have stood by as I unleashed pain.

**Author's Note:**

> My recent rewatch of "Train To Busan" made me think about their relationship with each other. As a workaholic, he never spends much time with Daisy. One would think that finding that your heart doesn't give you much time left, he'd spend more time. Yet, he sacrifices himself, distancing from her to soften the blow. Yet all that she wishes is for him to stay.


End file.
